Before, After, and Now
by This Is My Escape
Summary: Military AU where Killian keeps his promise in making it back to her. Rated T. Major fluff, and a little angst.


**Prompter: **onceuponaluke

**Prompt:** Military AU where Killian is returning home from a 7 month long deployment and reunites with his gf Emma. Bonus points if features David.

**Rating:** T

**Word Count: **3,000+

**Author's Note:** This got away from me, but I hope those who read it enjoy! ~Kate

* * *

_Before_

The last thing she wants is for him to go, but she knows he'd rather die fighting than to let the enemy win. It had hurt, a lot, that he'd actually hidden his military life from her and when he finally came clean (when he had to come clean), she didn't speak to him for three days. He's going to be deployed and she's going to have to face the possibility that he may never return to her…to them.

He kept a secret from her, and she isn't sure whether or not she should share hers considering the circumstances. He needs to be focused, and dropping this bombshell on him so soon before he leaves for the war could be a mistake.

Her stomach rolls and she grimaces, curling into a tighter ball and snuggling into bed and pulling the comforter up to her chin. When she feels a soft caress trail up her spine, she shivers. He presses a kiss to the back of her head and hears a soft sigh from behind her.

"Morning," she mumbles, closing her eyes and trying to force the nausea away.

It's mornings like this one (quiet, peaceful) she'll miss over the next several months. His gentle touch, the way he can soothe her frenzied thoughts without even trying.

"Good morning, love." She'll miss hearing that lilt in his voice, his loving tone and terms of endearment. When his hand drifts across her stomach, she tenses. "What's the matter?" he says with a heavy, sleep-induced voice.

She shakes her head and tangles their fingers together while resting her hand against the one he's got on her still-flat belly. "Nothing."

"You aren't being truthful with me." He pulls her against him, spooning her and she feels a tear trail down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I don't want to leave you, Emma," he whispers.

"Then don't," she chokes, clenching her eyes shut and forbidding any more tears to break free. "Don't leave. Stay."

"For the third time, love, I can't. I would absolutely stay if I had the option, but I don't. I have to go. Doing anything else now is simply poor form."

"You could die." Her voice comes out much, much weaker than she's meant it to but she's tired, she's upset and she doesn't have it in her to make herself sound like she's perfectly fine with him up and abandoning her –them. It's _them_ now and another tear escapes. "Killian, I need you."

"Aye," he says softly. "And I, you, but what choice have I? Zero. I should have told you much sooner, I know that, and I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am for keeping it from you long as I have."

She knows she'll hate herself if she keeps this from him. So she opens her mouth to respond to him when her stomach protests and she lunges from the bed and into the bathroom.

"Emma?" Killian kneels beside her and rubs her back. "I know this ordeal is stressful, and I wish the deployment wouldn't last as long as it will, but –" she heaves again and he pulls her hair off the nape of her neck. "Bloody hell, Emma, I'm so sorry."

"No," she gasps when she's granted a brief respite. "This isn't your fault…it's…both of ours."

"I don't understand."

When her stomach settles for the moment, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, unable to look at him as she says, "I think I'm pregnant."

A long, painful bout of silence stretches between them, and she frowns. She doesn't regret having told him, but thinks he might feel otherwise.

"Killian?" she asks, casting a glance at him and sees his jaw working underneath his skin. She's afraid to look him in the eyes so she doesn't. Her heart drops when he stands up and walks out of the tiny bathroom and she feels sick for an entirely different reason.

Checking on the status of her stomach before going after him, she gets to her feet and inhales heavily, thankful that it's calm enough to get this over with.

"I thought you were on protection," he grits the words between his teeth and she blanches. What the hell? She'd counted on him being surprised, definitely (understandably), but not…but not livid. They'd talked about children. They've been together for a few years now, and they've discussed marriage, and briefly children, and he always seemed to be on board so this angered response is definitely throwing her for a loop. "On the pill, or what have you. I thought you were protected."

"I was on the pill, and you wore condoms, Killian," she snaps. "Plans fail."

"Clearly."

"I don't get why you're being so pissy about it." She wants to whirl him around and make him face her but something is keeping her from doing so. "I mean, I get it because it's not planned, because it's happening a lot sooner than we…Jesus, you made it sound like you wanted kids." And then she pauses, something clicking with her and it's like a punch to the gut. "Unless…unless you don't want them with me?"

That gets him to finally turn around. When she finally meets his gaze her heart nearly breaks at the look in his eyes. His voice, when he speaks this time, is hoarse. "Emma, I was barely strong enough to leave you before…" he shakes his head, marching right up to her and casing her face in his strong hands. "How in God's name am I supposed to leave you now? How are you feeling? Well, you've just emptied the contents of your stomach, so not too well I'd imagine, but are you both healthy – nothing's amiss, right? How far along are you? Why now?"

She laughs at his firing of questions, not even knowing where to begin with answering. She shrugs and settling on the last inquiry. "Fate?" she replies, trying her hand at lightness and he lets out a harsh chuckle, resting his forehead against hers. "I know the timing sucks."

"Understatement of the century, love."

"You're not mad at me?"

"Oh, I'm mad," he bit out with shining eyes. "I'm mad because of the timing, sweetheart. I'm angry because of the fact I won't be here with you, to take this journey with you and I'm livid because should anything go wrong, I won't be here to help you."

"Then I hope nothing goes wrong," she quips and he glares at her. "I'm sorry…I just…I wanna make sure you want this kid. I know I sprung it on you, but –"

"I want it." His answer is instant and she can see the sincerity written all over his face.

"You do," she says quietly, less of a question and more of a statement.

"Of course I do. We _have_ talked about it, but the bloody timing of it all…how far along are you?"

"It's really early…I'm only a few weeks in. I've just been feeling off lately and needed to know. Honestly, I was debating even telling you until after you got back…" she wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest and he kisses her forehead. "But you waited to tell me about your departure and we see how well that turned out."

"Aye, I was afraid you'd never speak to me again. Glad you didn't make my mistake."

She smiles at his terminology, the beloved 'aye' being one of her favorite words he uses. He might have been born as an American, but his parents were from Britain and he spent the majority of his time on the water with his father who basically talked like a pirate. "You'd shun me if I'd kept this from you and you know it. Can you imagine coming home to a very pregnant girlfriend?"

He breathes a heavy sigh, and the smell of mint wafts into her nose. Peppermint – blessedly – is a smell that her stomach _doesn't_ reject. "I'm going to have to."

"I know you do, but…" her lip trembles and she looks up at him. "I don't want you to go."

"Nor do I want to. I love you, Emma."

"I love you, too," she tells him as his thumb gently rubs back and forth over her jaw.

He kisses her temple, her nose, her cheek, before burying his face into the crook of her neck. "This is going to be torture," he mumbles against her throat.

"It'll be worse if I lose you. I can't lose you, Killian..."

"Well, love, you don't have to worry about me." He pulls back with a small grin. "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's surviving." She bites her lip and his eyes drop to her mouth and then to her stomach. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself. You're not the only one I've to worry about now."

"I will," she says on an exhale, leaning into him and resting her hands on his chest. "Promise me you'll come back?"

His hold on her tightens as he says, "I promise."

* * *

_After_

When she was three months along (about a month after Killian left), she'd started cramping. There hadn't been any way for her to get hold of Killian and he'd only just left. Her parents had been there with her in the hospital when the doctor told her she has a condition where if she isn't careful, she could miscarry. David offered for her to take an early maternity leave and she took him up on it. Ever since (as much as she hates being homebound) she's been resting as much as she can and doing everything in her power to keep her stress levels down and the baby safe.

And then there's the day she got the call.

She, Mary Margaret, and David had been setting up the nursery (well, she'd been telling him where to put furniture and he'd been moving it around all day while Mary Margaret gave her thoughts on whether or not the bed should be in front of the window, or on the far side of the room while each had their advantages and disadvantages.

Her phone had started ringing and with the help from her mother and momentum of the rocking chair, she waddled to the baby's dresser (yep, she waddled now. Seven months pregnant and she'd hit that "milestone"). She picked up her cell phone. _Restricted Caller_, the screen had read and without needing more information, she knew the call was regarding Killian.

"Hello?"

Her voice was shaky and she waited to hear about her boyfriend's (she hates calling him that because he's so much more) fate. Her heart raced and then the room started spinning when the caller told her that he'd been shot multiple times while trying to rescue a hostage, and that they were sending him home on medical leave to heal.

"W-what?"

"Emma?" David asked, concerned though his voice sounded far, far away and then Mary Margaret's voice was chiming in but by that point she couldn't even understand what either of them were saying until they were two blurs in front of her…and then there was nothing at all.

She'd awoken to the feeling of something damp on her forehead. She blinked a few times before hearing her father's voice calling for Mary Margaret. Wincing at how heavy her head felt, she didn't even try to sit up. She waited for her vision to focus until David didn't have two heads.

"How are you feeling?" David had asked and then Mary Margaret repeated him, flying into the room with a hand thrown over her chest as she exhaled in relief.

"What happened?" she'd asked.

"You tell me," he'd answered with a frown, and pulled the cloth away from her face. "You took a phone call and you dropped. Scared the hell out of me – what was the call about?"

Her eyes had begun to begun to water and before she could stop it she was crying. "He's hurt, Dad. Killian. He's coming home, but they hurt him." And then she was sobbing into her dad's chest while he stroked her hair, looking at his wife and wishing there was more they could do for their daughter.

A week later, when Killian's doctors (finally) allowed him visitors, she went to see him. She tried to dress nicely but her small town was small and didn't offer a stylish maternity store for her to attempt to hide her basketball-sized belly.

"Do you want us to go with you?" Mary Margaret had asked over the phone. "Your father still isn't over the fact that you fainted, and doesn't want you to go alone."

"Well," she said, "on the upside I'll be at the hospital if anything bad happens, so tell him that and tell him we're fine too."

"Love you, sweetie."

"You, too."

When she arrived at the hospital, heart twisting and yanking painfully, she found the receptionist and learned which floor he was on (second floor, room 213-B). When she got there, she froze, her hand paused over the doorknob and preparing herself for whatever she was about to walk in on.

They'd never told her what exactly had happened, other than he'd tried to rescue someone. They hadn't told her anything else. Or maybe they had but she'd been unconscious and unable to hear the rest of their message.

Twisting the knob and pushing the door open, one of the first things she was made aware of was the sound of a heart monitor, tracking his alive (and thankfully strong-sounding) heart. The second thing was that other than a few scratches on his face, he looked whole. His eyes were closed, no doubt granting his body its wish to shut down so that it could heal him. She tried to see the bandage of where he'd been shot, and she saw one of them, but the other wound must have been concealed underneath his hospital gown, which left her to wonder if he'd been shot in the chest? The abdomen? His side?

By the time she'd reached his bedside, she was in full on tears (she'd blame the hormones but this is strictly because she'd almost this wonderful, brave man and even if she hadn't been pregnant, she'd be bawling her eyes out). Sitting beside him, she'd rested a hand on his arm and his fingers twitched. A grunt.

Crap. She'd woken him. She pulled her hand away when a husky voice ordered, "I've not had your hands on me in far too long, Swan, so if you know what's good for you, you'll put that hand back where it was."

A strained laugh escaped her as she repeated her movement and pressed her lips to his forehead. She pulled back to look at him and his eyes were locked on hers. "Hey, beautiful."

"God, I've missed you." She ran her fingers through his hair, still as silky and soft as it was seven months before.

"Aye, you've no idea. There wasn't a day that went by I didn't think of you."

"Corny."

A weak grin. "Maybe so, bit it's the truth."

"Good." Tears were free-flowing as she cried, "You came back to me." She stroked his face and smiled when he leaned into her touch. "You survived."

"I told you I was a survivor, or did you not believe me?" He went to sit up and hissed. "Damn, that hurts."

"What's wrong? Did they get the bullet out? I'll call a doctor –"

"Bloody hell, woman, take a breath." He gripped her hand and squeezed it. "The bullet it out but the damage done is nasty. I'll be lucky if I can ever shoot a gun again."

"I hope you can't."

"Emma…"

"No," she snapped. "Do you have any idea what I've been through this week? I got a call saying you'd been shot – no sugarcoating, no beating around the bush, just that you'd been shot during a rescue mission and that you were on your way back. And then when I tried to visit they told me I wasn't allowed because of hospital policy. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be so close to someone and not be able to get to them?" He flinched, lifting his hand to wipe her tears with his thumb and she let him. "Killian, I literally passed out when I heard you'd been hurt."

"What?" His hand froze on her cheek and his blue eyes snapped to hers. "Well, are you okay? Is the baby –"

"I'm – we're fine. Happened days ago."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah, David and Mary Margaret have been taking care of me. This whole pregnancy has been kind of rocky."

"Well, I'm glad you weren't entirely alone." He rested his head against the stiff hospital pillows, still holding onto her hand with one of his and her face with the other. It seemed he was unable to keep from touching her. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me, but…I'm here now, Emma. You're not alone anymore."

"I know." She nodded, quickly swiping away a tear before he had the chance to. He lifted their hands to rest on her belly. "Do we yet know what the baby's gender is? Little lad? Or a lass, perhaps?"

"Nope." His brows jumped. "What? I didn't want to find out without you. It'll be a surprise."

"Emma…"

"What," she whined.

A corner of his mouth lifted into a lazy grin. "I spent seven months out there, fighting for you, to make it home to you." His slid his fingers in between hers. "But now I'm here, and admittedly all I can think about now is having your lips on mine, so do a man a favor, Swan?" She cocked an eyebrow, smiling in return. "Kiss me."

"Gladly."

* * *

_Now_

She's in the nursery, staring at the calendar. She's late…the baby was supposed to arrive sometime last week, but apparently Baby Swan-Jones isn't as eager as she is for it to arrive. She'd been thinking about the possibility of being pregnant forever when her mind had drifted off.

"Last month," she says, "when they brought you home."

"Aye, it was a bittersweet time."

"Mostly sweet." She sighs as he rests his head on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her from behind and agrees with her. "I want this kid outta me."

A soft chuckle. "I don't blame you, love. I'm ready to meet the baby too."

"Think it'll like me?"

He turns around, his face contorted in confusion. "Like you, darling, why do you say that? It'll adore you just as I do…you'll be a wonderful mother."

"You're a sap," she chuckles weakly, before feeling a twinge in her belly. She winced, tightening the grip she had on his arm.

"Emma?" The concern in his eyes was apparent and once her body relaxed, she looked at her cell phone before swiping at the screen and tapping away at it. "Love, what are you doing?"

"Timing my contractions."

"They've started?" he asks with wide eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"'

"I didn't want you to panic like you are now," she says, patting his arm. "Sorry. I know it's still sore." He'd been shot in his left arm, as well as his side, and luckily the wounds had been tended to in time. He risked needing it amputated, but he'd been in good hands. He still complains of it hurting every now and then, but she knows it'll take more than a couple months for him to be back to normal. "My water hasn't broken so we've got time, trust me."

And then their time runs out, because at that moment her water breaks.

"Son of a bitch."

"Time to go," Killian says with a chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist and bending gingerly to lift the baby bag strap over his shoulder. "You and I, finally, have someone to meet."

_Fin_

* * *

**AN: There it is! Just a short little drabble that the muse had a ball with it. Thanks for reading, &amp; please review! ~Kate**


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